


Comic Sans Gets You Laid

by DevilishKurumi



Series: Midlife Crisis [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux tries to get work done at a local diner, but Dave and Dirk interrupt and decide he really needs some stress relief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comic Sans Gets You Laid

            It's a quarter past eight on a Friday night, and you're situated in the corner booth of a busy local diner, laptop open on one of the three websites you have to set up over the next five days.  You've made this your _thing_ , you think; it's been a month since you finally moved into your apartment, and every Friday, you've forced yourself to go out and at least be seen in public.  You think it helps you remember the time, and remember to shave and shower.  You know if you stay in your apartment, you'll only end up as sorry a shut-in as you were in Boston, and... well, fuck it.  You want to better yourself a little.  You think you deserve the chance.

            The diner is usually busiest from six until ten, when it closes, and you use the chatter of other patrons as white-noise to help you focus.  You're desperately uninterested in everything they have to say, so in the end they work even better than the terrible electronica you've saved over the years, and you've already managed to work out most of the code for this particular site.  It even looks half-decent, even though most of the filler art is trashy shit you made years ago when you were starting out.  Once it gets replaced, you figure it'll at least appease the customer.

            There's a birthday party to your right.  You shrink into the corner as best you can and focus on the project at hand.

            "Working hard?"

            You jerk in your seat at the unexpected question and look up.  Your stomach drops away all over again at the sight of nearly-identical twins in identical sunglasses standing next to your table.  Dave's hair is combed over his left eye.  Dirk is wearing a pair of fingerless leather gloves.

            You swallow.

            "Mind if we sit?" Dirk asks, and your brain stumbles over itself to figure out how to even begin answering.  You finally manage to shake your head, and Dave smirks as he slides into the seat across from you.  Dirk leans comfortably against his brother once he gets settled.

            "What are you two...?"

            "We're stalking you," Dave says, his voice flat.

            "We saw you through the window," Dirk says with a dull snap to his voice.  A second later, Dave yelps.  You realize they're kicking each other under the booth.

            "Couldn't help ourselves," Dave says, "I wanted to show you something, anyway, and you're fuckin' impossible to get over for like five minutes."

            "I've... been working," you mumble, trying to hide the fact that in truth, those sparse text messages had sent you into deep whirlpools of confusion.  They were a one night stand, weren't they?  They shouldn't want to see you again.  That's not how it works, not for one-nighters - not for _you_.

            "Sure, whatever."  You get the impression that Dave's rolling his eyes at you.  You remember fucking him against your motel bed, and you have to suck down air.

            "Show him already," Dirk says, nudging Dave with his elbow.  Dave opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue, showing off a metal ball resting there.  You exhale slowly, as quietly as you can, but you can tell from Dirk's posture that he sees it.

            "Wow," you try.

            "Yeah, man, it's fuckin' awesome," Dave drawls, and now that you know it's there, you can sort of see the metal glinting in the fluorescent overheads.  You are completely out of your element.  "Not that I'd have to hide it for work or anything, but man, it's fuckin' cool."

            "Next is a tattoo," Dirk says, and it takes you a second to realize that he's teasing Dave, who frowns.

            "No, next is a nose ring.  Or a stud.  What do you think?"  He looks at you, and you try to imagine which one would be more attractive.

            "Stud," you say finally, and Dave gives you a thumbs up.  You remember being down on your knees, sucking him off.  _Fuck._   You can't get turned on in a fucking diner, this is ridiculous.  You're old enough to know better.

            "Took forever to heal," he continues, oblivious to what's going on in your head, "I was lisping worse than you."  You feel Dirk's foot against yours as you both kick him at the same time.  "Ow!  Fuck you both!"

            "Later," Dirk says, and you bite your lip and try not to think about how fucking public they're being.  The people behind them don't even look around.  They can't hear a thing, probably.  You imagine Dirk bending Dave over the diner table and fucking him with those steady, constant thrusts, and dig your nails into the meat of your palms.

            Dave tilts his head, and you can feel him staring at you.  "You look tense," he says, and the way he says it makes it sound like the trashiest pick-up line that you've ever heard.

            "I'm working," you say, and suddenly you can't stop yourself, "I have to get three sites put together before Thursday, and that usually means I'm going to be reworking them sixteen times a piece just because I have shitty filler images so the clients can't see the finished product correctly.  I'm going to be resizing Times New Romans and Verdana, _fucking Verdana_ , for the rest of my life, and the next person to ask for _Comic Sans_ because it makes their site look _fun and friendly_ is going to get my foot shoved so far up their ass that the only _fun and friendly_ thing they're going to get is sucking on my toes for the rest of their existence."

            You drop your head, nearly hitting the keyboard, and push your glasses up to pinch at the bridge of your nose.  "Fuck my life, I hate Comic Sans."

            You feel a foot against your thigh; you try not to jerk away.

            "Man," Dirk says.

            "You're fucking wound up," Dave says.

            "I thought we'd do a better job than this."

            You look up at the two of them, and you're a little surprised to see some noticeable concern on their faces, even with the sunglasses in the way.

            "I'm gonna fix it," Dave says, "I'm not fuckin' satisfied with this.  Bro?"

            "On it," Dirk says, shifting in his spot next to Dave; you see his feet appear underneath the table, resting on the booth seat next to you.  He casts a casual glance over his shoulder, then says, "You're good."

            "What are you-"

            Dave wriggles low in his seat, then slides down until he disappears under the waterproof green tablecloth.  You immediately sit up.  "Relax," Dirk says, "You can say no if you want, he's just kind of eager.  He hasn't been able to do much with his mouth since he got that thing."

            "I just -"  You just what?  You don't know.  You hadn't imagined this.  You wish you had.

            Dave's hands rub against your calves and you shudder, forcing yourself to slouch lower in your seat.  The birthday party is ordering more desert, more beer, and the group of college co-eds sitting behind Dirk are laughing about something on one of their phones.  Dave's hands roam up your calves, to your knees, then your thighs.  You suck in a breath.

            "If you want, just shake your head," Dirk says, serious, "I'll drag him out from under there quick as you want."

            "No, it's.  Fuck."  You close your eyes as Dave's hands massage your thighs, running up to your hips.  You look down and see his fingers peeking under the tablecloth.  "Fuck, you weren't kidding - about the exhibitionism."

            "Nope."  Dirk snaps his fingers when you close your eyes again, and you look at him.  "You're going to have to stay focused.  Don't want someone finding out what's going on down there."

            "God - he's not really...?"  Dave's hands deftly undo the button and zipper on your jeans, and you clench your fists on top of your keyboard.  "God, he -"

            "I like Comic Sans," Dirk says, ripping your thoughts away from the hands carefully reaching into your pants.  You're a little surprised that you feel sincerely offended by that, even though you know you're a font snob.  "Not as a legitimate business font, but for graphics and shit.  Really drives home the fact that something's stupid."

            "You're disgracing photos by putting it on top," you say.

            Dave fondles you through your briefs and you suck in a breath.

            "Kind of the point," Dirk says, dropping his voice low.  "He's taking his time."

            "Yeah," you reply, trying to keep your throat from tightening as Dave's hand slips through the slit in your underwear, pulling your mostly-hard cock from the cotton.  You can't even pretend to focus on your laptop, to try and look natural - all you can feel are his hands on you, and all you can see is Dirk's mouth moving.

            "Hopefully he remembers they close in an hour or so."  Dirk smiles vaguely, just the slightest upturn to his lips, and Dave's tongue finds the head of your dick.

            " _Fuck_ ," you hiss, banging your knee into the tabletop.

            "Easy there, tiger."

            You look up to Dirk, staring at him, trying to get your breathing under control as Dave licks with broad-tongued strokes.  You can feel that warm ball of metal as it traces over the underside of your dick, and you don't know what you're supposed to do.  The birthday party gets their dessert.  Dave sucks on your dick and you think everyone can hear him.

            "Is this asshole bothering you, Captor?"

            You nearly bang your knee again as you jerk back in your seat; beneath you, Dave grunts when you step on his hand.  Standing at the end of the table is your rather thickset neighbor, wearing his work uniform and holding a side of bacon and a pot of coffee.  You know without looking that he has a pencil stuck behind his ear in his curly hair.  He'd taken your order half an hour ago.

            _Fuck._

            "N-No," you rasp, and try to smile.  Dirk raises an eyebrow.

            "I didn't know you knew each other," he says, easily as he pleases.  Dave's mouth, so fucking hot and wet with just a hint of metal, wraps around your dick again, swallowing around you, and you bite your lip as hard as you can.

            "He's, ah -"  You can't close your eyes.  You want to grab Dave by the back of the head and fuck his mouth until you come.  "--My neighbor."

            Karkat raises an eyebrow.  "How do you know Strider?  And where's the other one?"  He shoots Dirk a suspicious look, and you can feel Dave grin around you.  He sucks hard and you grunt.

            "I just -"

            "We met at a bar," Dirk drawls, "And Dave's probably sucking someone's dick under the table somewhere around here."

            You stare at Dirk, suddenly terrified because you don't want to be singled out right now, you don't want to be caught, and Dave digs his nails into your jeans.  You can feel his throat vibrate with a hum - are the neighboring tables loud enough?  Did they cover that?

            "Don't listen to him," Karkat says, rolling his eyes, "He and his brother might be total sluts, but I know he's not going to do something that mind-bogglingly stupid.  Who the fuck would, have you seen the bottom of these fucking tables?  And the carpet?  Jesus.  You'd get sixteen kinds of fucking diseases."

            Dave chuckles.  The birthday party cheers.

            "Shit, I have to go," Karkat mutters.  "Ugh, I'm so fucking done with this shit.  Strider, keep your brother away from Captor, he doesn't need more fucking bullshit on top of the blatant abuse he's suffering at the hands of his job."  He drops the plate of bacon down and leans over to fill your cup.  Dave grips your legs and pulls his mouth off of you; you groan, quietly, and stare intently at the screen of your laptop.  "Man, they're driving you crazy, huh," Karkat says.  "I've got a bottle of scotch with both of our names on it, when you get off."

            "Hhh-huh?"

            Karkat shrugs.  "I figure you're gonna be here till closing again.  Might as well offer."

            "Uhh-"

            "Dave and I might be borrowing him for a while," Dirk interrupts, and Dave's hand starts working you over, quick and hard, and you shudder as Karkat turns his attention to Dirk.  "He's got the magic touch," Dirk adds.  A smile follows.  "With computers."

            "Right, whatever."  Karkat looks at you, and you bottle up a scream.  "Offers open until I pass out myself, okay?"

            "Y-yeah.  Yeah, okay."

            Karkat gives you one more look, then takes off for one of the tables across the dining room.  Dave's mouth replaces his hand, and he scrapes you lightly with his teeth, teasingly.  You groan and cover your face with your hands.

            "You did good," Dirk says.  "Dave's going easy on you, huh."

            "Fuck," you whisper.  "I wish he wouldn't."

            Dave swallows and bobs his head against you, and his hand works the base of your dick, up and down - you reach down and grab Dirk's ankle, gripping tight, and he reaches across the table and puts his hand over yours.

            "You're so close," he murmurs.  "And watching you squirm is getting me fucking hot."  He leans forward, and Dave moans against you.  You sink down into the booth and reach your free hand out to stroke Dave's hair.  "When we're done here, you could come home with us," Dirk continues, his voice soft and low.  You close your eyes.  He leans in as much as he can with his feet up.  "You could watch us fuck."

            You slap a hand over your mouth, biting down on your fingers to muffle your cry as you come in Dave's mouth.  He slurps.  Nobody looks your way.

            "Oh, god," you hiss.  "Oh god, oh fuck."

            You feel Dave pull away from you; he tucks you back into your underwear and zips up your pants as much as he can, considering how much you've squirmed around, and Dirk pulls his feet back under the table.  He slides over casually, towards the wall, and looks over his shoulder like he's checking the line at the cashier.  You hear a muffled yelp, and then Dave calmly slides back up and into the seat his brother had been occupying.  His hair is tousled from you petting it, and he flips it back into place with a quick tilt of his head.  You stare at his lips, bright pink and thick, and try to fix your pants without being too fucking obvious.

            Dave licks his lips.  "You should come back with us," he says, and his foot nudges yours, rubs up against your ankle and your calf.  "You should really come back with us."

            You try to form some kind of response, despite the fact that your head is reeling, and you can feel yourself blush as they stare at you.  "Why me?" you finally ask.

            "Because," Dave says.

            "You make the best faces," Dirk says, shrugging.

            "You have nothing better to do."

            "Except Vantas, apparently."

            Dave glances towards the dining area, then says, "Speaking of..."

            "When the fuck did you show up?" Karkat snaps, not exactly angry, just... caustic.  He's pretty fucking surly, you have to admit.

            "I was always here," Dave says, letting his accent drawl out, "I was under the table, giving Sollux here a blowjob."

            You try not to react, but you're already blushing so all you can do is cover your face with one of your hands and try to look exasperated instead of terrified.  Karkat's the only person you know in town other than the twins, and you _don't_ need him flipping out and hating you just because you're apparently completely sexually depraved.

            Karkat barks out a laugh.  "Yeah, sure.  Captor, seriously, if these two start really fucking with you, I'll kick them out.  They're practically banned, anyway."

            "From most restaurants and a few bars," Dave supplements helpfully.

            "I wonder why," you weakly ask, like you already know the answer.  You do.  You wonder how many places they've fucked in.  They're twenty-three years old, but you're pretty sure they've done more sexually than you've done in thirty.

            "Well, whatever.  Here, I'm about to clock out, if you give me a shitty tip I'll beat the crap out of you, and I'll see you when you get back from fixing these two shitfucks' computers.  Might as well wipe them clean with how many porn viruses they probably have."

            Karkat drops the bill on the table and moves on to the next, and you stare at Dave and Dirk.

            "I just mean - look, I'm.  Pretty fucking vanilla, you guys, couldn't you find-"

            "I already told you," Dirk snaps, and you're a little shocked by it, but he doesn't sound angry.  Just mildly exasperated.  "We go for guys who aren't like us.  And I don't believe in coincidences, so randomly spotting you through a diner window?  No way I'm going to pass up on that.  You can say no.  But we're offering."

            "No strings attached," Dave adds.  "We're not trying to have a beautiful Mormon wedding here.  We just like the way you respond.  And trust me, dude.  You are _not_ as vanilla as you think you are."

            "What do you have to lose?" Dirk adds, and he sounds genuinely curious, like he thinks there's really something you might be holding out for.  You can't imagine anything that would make you pass up on this, though - and that maybe depresses you a little.  Do you really have so little going on?

            "We'll treat you nice," Dave says, and now he sounds kind of like he's begging.  "Like a fuckin' princess, man."

            "Do I get a crown?"

            Dave looks momentarily surprised, and then he grins.  "Fuck yeah, dude.  We've got a whole goddamn ball gown ready for you."

            You pull out six dollars from your wallet and grab the bill.  "I'll meet you outside," you say, and Dave bounces in his seat.  You grab a few slabs of bacon off your plate, throw back half your cup of coffee, close your laptop and try really hard not to just run to the cashier.  You check your fly twice while standing in line to make sure you didn't leave it unzipped, and the manager takes your money without counting it.  You chew on bacon strips as you leave.

            You hadn't seen Dirk and Dave leave, but sure enough, they're standing outside the diner, leaning against the wall like there's nothing else better to do in their lives.  You scarf down the rest of the bacon in your hand, then ask, "Do you guys live close, or...?"

            "Three and a half blocks that way," Dave says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.  You open the backseat of your car and drop your laptop in.  "You wanna walk it, or...?"

            You live about five minutes away if you drive, and you know that Karkat will cover you if you leave your car in the parking lot.  You'll just have to get back to it before it gets too late.

            "Yeah," you say.  "Yeah, I'm okay to walk."

            You take out your pack of cigarettes and tap one out.  You look up to see Dirk watching you, and so you pull out a second and hold it out to him.  You even light it for him, watching him inhale until the tip burns orange-red in the dark.  You want to kiss him.

            "C'mon," he says as Dave starts walking, "I want to try getting home before I lose it."

            You swallow thickly and follow the two of them, sucking down nicotine and smoke like it's water.  You watch as they move and force yourself to keep pace, but they're antsy, impatient, and moving pretty quick.

            "You guys want to take it slower, maybe?" you ask.

            "Not unless you want me to fuck you in an alleyway," Dirk says, and Dave reaches out and grabs his brother's wrist.  "I was joking, bro."

            "Yeah, but-"

            You make yourself take longer steps to catch up with them.  "Fuck that, one act of exhibitionism per night, sorry."

            "You're no fucking fun," Dave says, but he reaches over and slips his hand into your back pocket.  You're only a block from the diner.  "Does that mean I can cash in tomorrow night for some back-alley gangbangs?"

            "Don't press your luck."

            You toss out your cigarette by the end of the second block, and you feel Dave pull you closer.  Dirk's hand reaches out and grabs yours, and you don't know what to do because this is - this is too romantic, right?  They shouldn't be touching you out in public, much less so casually like this.  Right?

            You think that it probably is, but you don't think you care; you _know_ you don't when his hand squeezes yours.

            The apartment building that they take you to is a dozen stories or so tall, built out of concrete and brick, and you only hesitate at the door for a second before they manage to encourage you inside the lobby.  Dirk squeezes your hand once again before letting go to push the button for the elevator.  Dave leans in close and slides his hand out of your pocket, up to your waist.

            The elevator doors open, and suddenly Dave's arm is insistent against your back, pushing you forward; you step into the elevator, but he keeps pushing, slipping behind you and grabbing your hips.  Your hands grab the back railing and you press against it, your chest against the wall.  You twist your neck to try and look at Dave, but all you can catch a glimpse of is his hair.

            "How'd you like my tongue?" he murmurs against your ear.  You squirm until you feel him pressing up against you, grinding against your ass.

            "I - I."

            "C'mon, Sollux," he continues, "I know you got it in you.  Did you like it?"

            He waits for an answer as you exhale against the metal.  The doors close and the elevator starts to rise, and Dirk rests against the wall next to where his brother has you pinned, his sunglasses up and his amber-orange eyes fixed on you.  He reaches out and pushes your hair behind your ear; Dave leans up and licks your earlobe.

            "Fuck," you say.  "Dave-"

            "Nope," Dave says.  "Not until you tell me if you liked it or not."

            " _Yes_ ," you hiss, rocking back into him; he presses you close and breathes over the spot he licked.  "Fuck, yes, it was - fucking fantastic."

            "Yeah," Dave agrees, "It was.  I'd pay you to let me suck your dick.  You're fucking responsive as hell."

            "You are," Dirk says, "One of the reasons we like you."

            "You hardly know me," you murmur.  Dave reaches a hand around to cup your dick through your pants, then pulls away.  Dirk takes one of your wrists and pulls you close, until you're practically pinning him, awkward and unsure and feeling a lot more like a teenager than you have any right to at thirty years old.

            "You'll have to start answering our text messages, then," he says, "So we can get to know you."

            You open your mouth to ask why they would _want_ to, but Dirk cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you in for a long, hot kiss that lasts six floors.  You grab his shoulders, and it's not long before Dave is behind you again, pushing your hair away from the back of your neck before pressing his open mouth against your skin.  You moan into Dirk's mouth, reach up a hand and tangle your fingers in his hair, and you feel him reach past you and pull Dave closer.

            The elevator comes to a halt somewhere near the top of the building, and Dave pulls away.  Dirk breaks the kiss and locks eyes with you.  You think that he's trying to tell you something without actually saying it, but you don't know what.

            "C'mon," Dave says, "I'm gonna bust a nut if we don't get inside soon."

            Dirk rolls his eyes and you back away from him, following the two of them down the hall.  You see them glance at each other as they stop at the last door in the hall, and you try not to think it means anything.  Dirk unlocks the apartment door, and he holds it open for Dave, then you.

            You don't know what you expected.  The apartment is big - bigger than yours - but cluttered, with weird, multicolored stuffed animals lying around on the futon and the floor around it.  Their kitchen is full of empty take-out boxes, their range covered in empty beer bottles and a few liquor bottles.  There's a large flatscreen on the far wall, and bookshelves full of DVD and video game boxes.  It looks kind of like the apartment you had back in college, and that makes you feel strangely at home - and also very old, because that was nearly ten years ago.

            The door clicks shut behind you, and you chew your lip as you turn to face Dave and Dirk.  They're looking at you, leaning close together as though maybe you caught them talking, but you hadn't heard anything.  "Uh.  I'm..."  You lick your lips.  "Kind of out of my element."

            "We know," Dave says.  Dirk reaches over and pulls off Dave's sunglasses; other than a minor twitch, Dave doesn't seem to mind.

            "It's cool," Dirk says, and he does that vague little smile that you think is supposed to be his version of Dave's cocky smirk.  "We'll be gentle.  But I wasn't joking at the diner."  Dave shoots Dirk a curious look, but he doesn't say anything directly.  You imagine he probably didn't hear the things Dirk was telling you when he was under the table.  "Anything else you want first, though?"

            It's kind of unnerving, how Dirk talks about it as though there's something you _want_ out of this, how he treats it almost like a fetish that he's fulfilling for you.  You don't think it's really that.  You _know_ you have a kink for twins, and always have, but you don't think you're here for that.  Maybe - definitely - that was the reason you went with them when you met them, but now?

            Fuck that.

            "I don't want anything," you say.  "Seriously."

            "Well, I know what _I_ want," Dave says, and he reaches out a hand.  You come towards him without a second thought.  "You ready to pay me back?"  When you nod, he grins and presses his hand to the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his and devouring you in a hot, fierce kiss, biting at your lip, sucking on it, fighting his way into your mouth with his tongue and encouraging you to fight back.  You reach out, blind, and grab at the wall behind him, and when he whines into your mouth you can't help but push him into it.  His fingernails scrape lightly against your scalp, and even though it's going to take a while longer before you can get it up again, you have no problem grinding your hips into his.

            "Figured out what he likes pretty quick," Dirk murmurs, but Dave's hand in your hair keeps you from breaking the kiss and keeps you focused on him.  You hear the hiss of a zipper coming undone behind you.  Dave sucks on your tongue before he pulls back, panting.

            "Fuck, Sollux," he says.

            "Anything you want," you say, your throat tight, "Seriously - anything you two want, I'm - I should be bending over backwards for you two as it is -"

            "I got some ideas," Dave says.  He leans into you and looks around your bicep - you're just a little too tall for him to rest his head comfortably on your shoulders - and says, "You want me to put on a show for you, bro?"

            "Hell yes," Dirk says, and you look over your shoulder.  Dirk has one hand down his pants, the other bracing him against the wall.  You remember him watching as you stretched Dave out on the bed in your motel room and fuck, you might not need a _while_ longer.  "I'm fine with that."

            You almost want to ask if they're going to make you do anything humiliating, but you bite your tongue because you don't actually _want_ to give a shit.  Fuck.  If they asked you to put on an actual gown and tiara and shit, you'd do it, and you'd probably get off on it.  You need to reexamine your life when you go home.  You're going to need Karkat's bottle of scotch and a long, angry look at your choices since you got here.

            Dave grabs your hand and pulls you towards the couch, kicking the stuffed animals out of the way as he goes.  "You're gonna suck my dick," he says, and you suck in a breath at how hoarse he sounds.  "Dirk might get into it, but yeah.  You down for that?"

            "Yes," you say, and you aren't ashamed at sounding desperate.  You don't care, because you're pretty sure they don't care.  From the way Dave looks at you, you think he likes it that way.

            He flops onto the couch like he's getting ready to watch television, and you hesitate in front of him, watching Dirk as he moves around the couch, dragging one of the folding chairs from the table with him.  Dave reaches up and pulls your chin, drawing your eyes back to him as Dirk sets the chair down in front of the sofa.

            "Where do you want me?" you rasp.

            "On the sofa with him," Dirk says, and Dave nods.  You chew your lip.  "And take off your shirt, okay?"

            You lick your lips and do what he asks, pulling off your shirt and trying not to hunch down and make it harder to notice how thin you are.  This is different from the first time - they're not in a rush, and you're not really either, so they might actually look harder at you than before.

            Dave reaches out and pulls you down onto the couch beside him; you slump sideways as you sit, so you can face him.  He smirks, and you look over to see Dirk rubbing himself through his clothing, sitting in the chair with his knees bent wide, watching you without saying a word.  It's more than a little unnerving, but the expression on his face makes you anxious to start moving.

            "He's just going to watch for now," Dave says.  "He likes watching, we covered that, right?  So c'mon."

            You look down at Dave, then lean in to kiss him.  He reciprocates in short, heavy kisses, and while he does, you reach your hand down to undo his fly.  He's straining against his jeans, and you don't want to keep him waiting, but you can't help but palm him through the material before finally managing to undo the button.  He nips at your lower lip and you know he's trying to goad you on, to get you to get moving, and you comply with the barest murmur of understanding, drawing down the zipper and pressing your hand against Dave's cotton-covered dick.

            "C'mon," Dave repeats, pressing his mouth against yours, "Enough fuckin' teasing, dude."

            Dirk makes a noise like maybe he agrees, and you said you'd bend over backwards for them, so you break the kiss and turn your eyes downwards.  Dave's cock is pressing against his underwear, a pinprick of dampness at the tip, and you can't help but lick your lips as you reach your hand in and pull him out.  You want to say you haven't fantasized about this, but you know better.  You know that for the past month, every time you've jerked off, it's been to these two.  Sometimes, it'd just be because you sat with nothing in your head long enough, and they'd come back to mind - twin blond heads sitting between your legs, sucking you in turns and at once, and how different they'd felt inside you, in your mouth, and - _fuck_.

            You can't move fast enough, pressing your mouth to the tip of Dave's cock, gripping it with one hand and licking at it, unable to care that you can hear yourself whining in desperation.  You can't care, because Dave's hand is in your hair, fisting it, and his other hand grabs at the couch cushion as he hisses, "Holy _shit_ , dude."

            "He really wants you," Dirk says, and you angle your head to look at him.  He's watching you, his eyes black-amber, his own cock out, hard and thick, thicker than you really remember, or maybe you just didn't think about it when all you wanted was to do something new.

            Dave pulls on your hair and you return your focus to him, trying not to think about how weird it is to be on your knees and elbows on a couch, thinking more about how Dave makes these noises when he inhales as you suck on the base of his dick, ones that go right through you.  You reach a hand back and palm yourself through your jeans - you're hard again, not aching like in the diner or when you'd walked them back to your room, but god, even if you just rub yourself through your pants you're pretty sure you'll still come.

            "You wanna take those off?" Dave rasps above you.

            "And be the only one naked in here?" you growl - and you're surprised by that, really surprised.  Dave doesn't seem to be.

            "Yeah, sort of."  You look up at him and he raises his eyebrows at you.  "Well?"

            Fuck it.  You undo your fly, toeing off your sneakers before climbing off of the couch to strip off your pants and underwear.  Dave looks you up and down as you undress, and you try not to be anxious.  You sort of stand there as he does, not sure if he wants you to move yet or not.  You barely manage to keep from covering yourself with your hands.

            "C'mere," he says, finally, and you climb back onto the couch; he presses his mouth to yours before threading his hand through your long hair to guide you back down.  You go willingly, wrapping your mouth around the head of his dick.

            "You can touch yourself," Dirk says.  You shudder, taking more of Dave into your mouth as you reach for yourself.  Dirk makes a noise as you wrap your hand around yourself, stroking slow, trying to keep pace with yourself, keep pace with how you're sucking on Dave's dick.  Dave's hand digs into your hair and pushes you down again, trying to hurry your movements, and you let him, feeling embarrassment coiling in your gut as you swallow and make wet noises against his skin.  You bow your back and feel his hand move from your hair, sliding down your neck, tracing over as many of the bony nubs of your spine as he can before he stretches too far.  His hips buck and you almost choke, but you force yourself to swallow until you can feel the tip of his cock against the back of your throat.  You hollow your cheeks and suck and blush at the noise.

            "You're so good," Dave mumbles, and the hand gripping the couch comes up, brushing your hair out of your face.  "God, fuck, Sollux, you're fuckin' great at this."

            "He really is," Dirk pants; you try to look his way and only catch a glimpse of him, stroking himself, short, quick wrist movements that you immediately start to mimic.  "You should see Dave's face," he says to you, and you close your eyes and pull back to suck and lick at the head of Dave's dick.  Dave moans and fists his hand in your hair again.  "He's staring at you, you know.  He's trying not to come, but I know his face.  He's close, Sollux.  Feel how his muscles are tensing?  Feel his legs?  He's got his heels dug into the carpet.  God, he wants to come..."

            "Shut _up_ ," Dave gasps, and then his hands are on either side of your face as best as he can grab, and he holds you still.  You almost pull away, but his hips are rocking, thrusting upwards, and you let him set the pace, jerking yourself off in time, trying not to choke when he thrusts deep into your mouth.  "Oh, god, fuck, I'm gonna -"

            When he comes, you get some of it in your mouth, but he pulls you back and grips his dick with a hand, jerking as he comes in hot spurts across your face and your glasses.  You gasp and rock your hips forward - and Dirk's hand grabs yours away, replaces it with his own.  You press your forehead into Dave's thigh and sob, incoherently shouting nonsense as he strokes, your hands grabbing at Dave, who grabs your shoulders and says, "C'mon, Sollux, c'mon-"

            You can't fight down the wail that rips from your throat when you come, and when Dave and Dirk roll you onto your back, you move bonelessly.  Dirk leans in close and pulls off your glasses, and then he licks at your mouth and cheeks before finally kissing you, heavy and forceful.  You can feel his hard-on pressing against your stomach, and you find yourself mumbling into his mouth, "Need some help?"

            "Thought you'd never ask," he says, and when he pulls his mouth away from yours, you roll your eyes to look at the blurry, out-of-focus silhouette of Dave above you.  He's looking down at you, but you can't really make out his expression.  Dirk climbs higher, settles his thighs against the sides of your chest, and you tilt your head forward, wrapping a hand around his cock, thinking about how different he is from his brother and how he'd said you could watch them fuck and how - you guess you don't really care, but maybe you would've liked to see that.  Maybe sometime.

            You lavish as much attention as you can on his dick, your skin feeling hypersensitive, sweat flash-cooling on your body and making you shudder.  He rocks shallowly against your chest, giving you more and less to work with in turn, and Dave strokes your hair.

            Dirk groans, and you loop an arm around the small of his back, not caring any more when your mouth makes slick, wet noises against him, and above you, you hear Dave murmuring.  "He can take it, bro, don't worry," he's saying, and you hear them kiss, short hot bursts, and Dirk's panting.  "I can tell, just let go-"

            "Fuck," Dirk hisses, and then louder, " _Fuck_ , Sollux," and you try to pry him up, get him closer so you can swallow more of him.  He arches his back and bows forward, hunched over you, and when he thrusts now you have no problem swallowing him down.  He doesn't whine like Dave, but he breathes heavy, thrusting shallowly and gasping out little noises.  "Fuck, I wanna..."

            You hum out an agreement, an encouragement, and now he starts to moan, long vowel-ridden noises, wanton like the best porn actors out there, except this is much hotter because you know you're causing it.  Dave encourages him with quiet noises, little votes of confidence, and you know when he jerks, his muscles tightening, tensing, that he's on the edge.  You scrape the very bare edge of your teeth against the underside of his cock, and he comes with a gasping cry that you know you should be recording.  You swallow everything.

            Dirk climbs off of you, then back on, his chest pressed against yours as he squirms to fill the gap between you and the back of the couch.  Dave shifts, his arm draping across Dirk's shoulders, his hand idly petting your skin, and you wonder at how good they are with everything, even the fucking afterglow.

            And how they can get you to say stupid shit like, "Always wanted a piercing."

            Dave laughs and says, "Don't think the tongue thing is really for you, dude."

            "No, fuck that," you agree, "I can hardly talk as it is."  Dirk traces his fingertips along your side, down to your hip, and you shiver.  "I could never get one," you add, trying to keep the fatigue out of your voice, the general weight of the last thirty days and your exhaustion right now making it impossible.  "Wasn't a good idea, I guess."

            "You should get one," Dirk says.  "Somewhere."

            "I'm thirty years old, I don't need a piercing."

            Dave swats at you.  "Fuck that, dude, don't be such a pussy.  You should totally fucking get one."

            "You're not as old as you keep acting like you are," Dirk says, pressing his mouth against your chest.  "You're the perfect age to do dumb shit and act like you know what you're doing."

            You laugh at that, rasping in your throat.  "I don't think I can pull it off."

            "You can," Dirk says.  "You can pull off all sorts of shit."

            "Yeah.  Dude, I'll take you down to fucking Claire's and we'll get your ears popped full of holes, it takes like five fucking seconds and it's not like anyone notices when a dude's got a bunch of metal in him."

            The Claire's jab doesn't stick with you, but nonetheless you don't respond right away.  Finally, though, you say, "I dunno.  I'd have to get both ears," and you wish you weren't admitting this to fucking twins but, "I've got a duality thing, I can't just pierce one side and be done."

            "You should get four, then," Dirk says, "Two in each ear.  Double duality, completely symmetrical."

            "Unless your piercing guy is a fucking idiot," Dave agrees.  "C'mon, you should totally do it."

            You lift your arms and try to extract yourself from the two of them.  "What I _should_ do is get back to my car before it gets towed, or my laptop gets fucking stolen."  Dirk's arm tightens around you and Dave pets your hair, and you realize that they really are trying to get you to stay.  They're not just doing it to make it feel less embarrassing or something, coming over just to fuck and then bailing.  "Seriously, you guys."

            "Theriouthly," Dave mimics, and you reach up and sock him in the shoulder.  "Ow!"

            "Gonna beat that disrespectful streak out of you," Dirk mumbles.  You reach over and smooth your hand through his hair.

            "Yeah, you just try," Dave says, and he helps you by pulling Dirk's arm off of you.  "You want us to come with you?" he asks after you manage to climb out of the comfortable warmth of the couch.  You grab your clothes.

            "It's okay, I think I can walk three blocks by myself."

            Dave shifts, and Dirk curls next to him.  You notice that Dirk's eyes are a little deeper set, with shadowy bags under them that you hadn't noticed, too busy staring at his eyes and not the skin around them.  You wonder if he gets enough sleep.

            "Let me at least walk you down," he says.

            "If you really want to, sure."  You manage to get dressed without hopping around on one leg like a jackass, and then you grab your glasses.  "Uh.  Sink?"

            Dave gets up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he stands, and he leads you to the bathroom door.  There's a bunch of junk in here, too, mostly laundry, but you don't give a shit.  Your apartment's on the fast-track to becoming a shithole, so a little dirty laundry isn't going to phase you.

            You clean off your glasses, then your face, and when you look around, Dave's leaning against the door and watching you.  
            "Vanilla my ass," he says.  You chew your lip.

            "Maybe not, but I'm definitely not..."

            "Into the crazy shit.  That's cool, neither am I.  More Dirk's thing."  He grins, and you check for your keys and wallet.  "Don't ever mention ponies around that motherfucker unless you've got a safe word."

            "Jesus, okay."

            He laughs, and you laugh a little too, because it's kind of fucking funny, and he walks with you out the door, down the hall and to the elevator.

            "If you get your ears pierced," Dave says as you wait for the elevator, "Does that mean you'd have to get a haircut?"

            "Huh?"

            "Like, so people could see it and shit."

            You frown as you consider that.  Your hair's getting really fucking long, longer than you like, but.  You don't know.  It's another rut that you're stuck in.

            "I guess, maybe.  I should cut it anyway, it's nearly on my shoulders and I hate that shit."

            The elevator doors slide open and you don't think twice about getting in; Dave follows, hitting the lobby button.  He doesn't pounce on you when the doors close, and though you're relieved because you don't have it in you for another make out session quite yet, you're a little disappointed just because you really like making out with him.

            "I like it long," he says, "But yeah, dude, you should trim that shit up if you don't like it.  And get some holes in those ears of yours.  You'd look good with a couple helixes or something."

            "I'll consider it," you say, and when he grins at you, you kind of feel like grinning too.  But it's stupid, the idea of you actually getting your ears pierced at thirty years old, and you pretty much know you're never going to do it.  You'll go get your hair cut, though.  Or just cut it yourself again, if you need to, even though it kind of comes out looking like shit.

            The elevator lets you out at the lobby.  You make it to the door before Dave stops you, grabbing your arm.  When you look at him, you find him eyeing you critically, like he's trying to decide something about you.  And then he grabs you by either side of your head and pulls you in for a kiss, long and wet and sloppy, and you grab his shoulders and hold on.  You prod at the metal in his tongue with your own, and he groans into your mouth before finally pulling back.  You try to catch your breath.

            "Seriously, if you don't start answering our text messages, I'm gonna start actually stalking you," he says, and you don't take it as a threat in the slightest.

            "Maybe," you start to say, _I'd like that_ , but you can't finish the sentence.  So you just say, "I'll consider it," and hope he gets what you mean.

            "You better," he says, and then he unlocks the door and smacks your ass on your way out.  You turn to give him an unimpressed glare, but he just shuts the glass door and sticks his tongue out at you.  He's seven years younger than you.

            You turn and start back for the diner.  You have a date with a bottle of liquor and a lot of inner reflection to get to.  You can only hope the liquor works faster than your brain.


End file.
